The System Will Out
by delga
Summary: A prostitute with a hand in drug trafficking and underage pimping? This was Stanup’s alibi? Screw it. - Kibre wrestles with justice.


**Title**: The System Will Out

**Fandom**: L&O: Trial by Jury

**Summary**: _A prostitute with a hand in drug trafficking and underage pimping? This was Stanup's alibi? Screw it._

**Spoilers**: Mild one for _Baby Boom_. Oh, and a blink-and-you'll-miss-it reference to a S7 episode of _Mothership_.

**A.N.** With thanks to my sweetheart beta **svufan4ever**. However, it seems I have lost all ability to write and no longer have a sense for subtlety of effect. sigh Oh well. I guess I'll just get this out there. Last fic for a little while, I'm afraid.

* * *

**The System Will Out**

"I hate these things," Tracey confided to Casey Novak as they stepped into the hall where the DA's office was holding its annual meet-and-greet for new ADAs, "They're a waste of time."

"I know what you mean," Casey responded, taking two glasses of wine off a passing waiter. Handing one to Kibre she added, "I always feel so... inadequate."

The two women moved into the throng of people, staying close to one another so as not to be cornered by the various ADAs present. Tracey made an effort to appear relaxed but she knew she was failing. The day's loss in court weighed heavily on her mind; she could sense people's eyes on her as she wandered through the room.

"Vultures," she muttered, taking a sip of wine, "Look at them. They know I made a mess in court today and they're just waiting for Branch to pounce on me." She made another cursory sweep of the room and frowned.

Casey shrugged, "It's not your fault Patel's an asshole. You'll turn the case around."

"Maybe," Tracey replied, "But it'll take some work. Heads up," she added, "I do believe that's Arthur Branch."

The District Attorney was, indeed, making his way towards them, Jack McCoy in tow. Kibre exchanged a glance with Novak before desperately trying to think of an out.

"What the hell was that performance today? Are you looking to be disbarred?"

Casey gave Tracey an apologetic smile, "Uh, excuse me, I think that's Carver. I promised him I'd talk to him about the, uh, thing." She turned one-eighty to make her getaway, mouthing _I'm sorry!_ as she passed and squeezing Tracey's arm in sympathy.

"That performance," Kibre stated, "was necessary. Patel's out of his mind if he thinks I'll let him debunk this case." Jack McCoy smiled and Tracey had a sudden urge to throw a tantrum. She wouldn't, of course – was far too refined – but at that moment, if she could have wiped that smirk off his face, she would have.

"It's an embarrassment," Branch continued, as though he hadn't heard her, "He was two steps away from holding you in contempt!"

"He was two steps away from throwing a hissyfit!" Kibre countered, "He's unfairly biased and every ADA in this room knows it. Matthew Stanup killed that little girl, Arthur, as I'll be damned if I'm going to let him get a way with it just because Patel's got a long standing feud with this office!"

Arthur branch bristled with barely contained anger; Tracey wondered if perhaps she'd gone too far. "This office had little to do with your actions today—"

"I know that." Tracey intervened with a dejected sigh. "I _know_ that. But if you were there, I doubt you'd have done differently."

"Learn to control your temper, Ms. Kibre, I think that's the lesson to be learnt from this, don't you?" He condescended to stare at her pointedly before straightening his tie. "If I get another call from Patel—"

"A _what_?"

"—I'm putting you back in narcotics. Is that understood?"

The impulse to scream was overwhelming but she managed, somehow, to suppress it, giving Branch a curt nod instead. As he moved away, she took another sip of her wine and saw McCoy smirking at her again. "I suppose that amused you."

"Quite," he laughed, "You shouldn't let Patel get to you. You'll end up in front of the disciplinary committee."

"You'd know, after all," Kibre remarked.

Jack took the insult without flinching. "Patel's a fool. Trust the jury to see the facts."

"How can I?" Kibre asked, plaintively, "They're not _seeing_ the facts. Stanup's attorney's got them running rings around the propaganda he likes to call 'evidence'." She shook her head, "If Patel doesn't let up, we're headed for a mistrial, I know it."

"Failing that," Jack added, "A home-made verdict."

She sighed, frustrated. "I don't suppose there's any way to show bias?" She turned to look at Jack face on. "How did you manage it in '97? With Judge Parks?"

McCoy shook his head sadly, "Schiff stepped in and read the transcripts; it was a clear case of bias. He threatened to take Parks to the committee. But it's no use," he added, "You haven't got enough evidence to prove bias and Branch isn't going to play around with this. It's your mess."

"Goddamn Republican," Kibre muttered.

Jack just laughed.

* * *

An hour later, Tracey finally made her escape. Casey and Ron Carver had been in the middle of what seemed to be a heated debate so Kibre waved her goodbyes before stepping out into the cold Manhattan air. She walked briskly back to the offices, determined to take another look at her case notes prior to heading home. There was also the possibility that she'd had too much wine and now the effects were beginning to wear her down.

She was annoyed and frustrated by the case; Matthew Stanup had been caught red-handed with blatantly clear DNA evidence to boot and she still couldn't get a straight conviction. Stanup's attorney had been playing with the jury's love of stereotypes, presenting the monster as a community hero. Every time Tracey tried to step in, Patel had pushed her down. Even Gaffney, normally restrained, had spoken out.

That afternoon had been the last straw. Stanup had a last minute witness added to his list – a woman passing as his alibi – and Kibre had got to work. A 'community hero' sleeping with a prostitute? A prostitute with a hand in drug trafficking and underage pimping? This was Stanup's alibi? Screw it.

"I suspect," Kibre had directed, "you're his pimp? Found him a quiet street girl to play around with and when she said no, he just killed her?" (Here the defence placed its first objection. Like Tracey even cared). "But no, of course not. Mr. Stanup is an upstanding member of the community. What is your current profession, ma'am?"

The defence objected strenuously, Patel stepped in. Kibre forged ahead relentlessly, badgering the hooker, treating the witness as hostile – prompting her, pushing her, forcing her to recant until she burst into tears and confessed that she was lying. Tracey had felt a bitter sting of victory but it was too late. Patel had hauled her into chambers to give her a piece of his mind.

Kibre was furious. What kind of system rewarded a murderer? What kind of system would let Stanup go Scot-free whilst the victim went unheard? Tracey hugged her coat closer around her as the wind whipped across her face. She needed to look at those notes _now_.

Getting to the office, she was surprised to see the light was on. "Kelly?"

Gaffney was at the desk, pouring copiously over the day's notes, referencing them against various legal sources. She looked up with a smile. "How was it?"

"Disastrous," Kibre replied mirthlessly, dropping her bag onto the sofa. "Have you been here all night?"

Kelly nodded, "Rather this than a company meet-and-greet. Meet anyone new?"

"A liberal from Boston who's joining Narcotics, which," she added, "may soon be my position, especially if we don't deal with Patel."

Gaffney smiled again as Kibre took a seat. "Branch would never do that to you." She grinned wickedly. "He likes you too much."

Tracey gave her a pointed look before glancing over the table. "Tell me the truth – do we have anything?" At Kelly's silence, Kibre shook her head tiredly. "Of course not." She dropped her head into her hands with a groan, the beginnings of a headache impinging on her mind. "This is— god, this is _unbelievable_!" she fumed. "How is it that no one else sees it?" It was senseless, she thought to herself. The system was falling apart around her and Tracy could do nothing to stop it.

She looked up to see Kelly watching her intently. She moistened her dry lips before speaking.

"I've always believed—" she paused again, "I've always believed in justice. I've always believed that the wronged will be avenged and the wrongdoers will be punished. I've always _believed_ that the system will always out but now..." she trailed off, her head pounding. "What kind of a system lets a man like Stanup walk away just because Patel's an idiot? The jury aren't seeing anything but stage show and costumes. How do we get them to see the truth?"

Kelly reached across the table and put her hand on Tracey's. The contact was grounding, reassuring. "We just have to point out the facts as clearly as possible." Gaffney gave a weary smile. "Failing that, hope that Patel comes down with a nasty bout of food poisoning."

Kibre laughed at last, then groaned again. "It's entirely possible that I've had too much to drink."

Rolling her eyes, Gaffney stood. "I'll make the coffee, you get to work." She headed for the door.

"Kelly?" She stopped, turned to face Tracey. "Thanks. I needed that."

Kelly smiled. "Milk?"

"Are you kidding me? No." Tracey feigned horror as Gaffney left the room, eyes rolling. "Milk's for the weak!" she called after her partner. Turning to the table, she cast a tired eye over the proceedings. Tomorrow would be Stanup's day in court. It was time to bring out the big guns. If Tracey could force a confession, nobody – not even Judge Patel – could set Stanup free. The system would out. It _had_ to.

**FIN**


End file.
